We mix it up a bit, but most weeks we visit the park, go to the mall and go the library, and I've noticed there are four phases that we tend to hit doing any of those things.
Phase one: where are the snacks?
It doesn't really matter how long it's been since they've eaten breakfast, the minute their feet touch the playground, they turn into little gremlins clamoring for food. If you see me and I'm carrying a large tote bag, it's probably because it's filled with snacks. And heaven forbid you give them snacks and then cut them off. Please see Phase three for more information on THAT!
Phase two: trying to escape the park or playing with things they shouldn't
Lucy is pretty good about not trying to escape and playing on or with designated playground equipment. It's Jackson who is still very much my wild card. We frequent this awesome indoor playground that's housed in a church, and I spent about half of the time we are there chasing him away from fire extinguishers, the ATM and playing in the water fountain. When we go to the mall, he's always trying to run into Forever 21 to get in the elevator.
Phase three: fists of fury
Regulating the shenanigans of phase two usually end up in phase three, also known as SOMEONE getting butt hurt because I won't let them carry on with said shenanigans. Yesterday we were on a lovely playdate with the MOMS Club we belong to, which was going great until Jackson discovered that the hostess had brought snacks. I let both kids pick out two snack to enjoy and then I cut them off. First I got the sad, I'm going to cry face. I stood firm and that led to the "I just want to see the world burn" face. He then started sneaking over to the snack bucket and started grabbing the snacks and throwing them. He was thisclose to upending the whole thing which led to...
Phase four: leaving the park with a flailing toddler under your arm
When Lucy was just under two and Jackson was still a baby, I swear this was one of the only reasons I used our double stroller. I did a lot of babywearing, and Lucy was pretty good at walking by then, but for the safety of both kids I would bring the stroller in case I had to strap a tantrum-ing toddler in. And there have been man a times, even as recent as last year, where I'd had to strap her in, with her screaming and a crowd of people watching, my face beet red from embarrassment.
Yesterday I had to call it, and leave the park because the snack bandit wouldn't cut the shit.
Here's a pro tip that I learned from a good friend: buckle the chest clip first so they can't arch their backs out of the carseat. You're welcome.
Now where's the wine?
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